didn’t fit quite as well, with her long legs, but she was still his baby. He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “We won’t ever forget your mother, Gina. She’ll be with us, in our hearts, for as long as we live. No matter what happens in the future, we’ll have our memories of your mom and know how much she loved us.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart,” he answered. “She’d want us to be happy, Gina. Your mother wouldn’t want us to grieve forever.”
“Does Ms. Parrish make you happy?”
Thinking about Maya, he smiled. “Yes, she does. Very happy.”
“Okay.” Gina got up and walked to the door. “Dad?” He looked at her, thinking how grown up she was getting. “I hope you’re being responsible . That’s important, you know.” She left before he could answer. Which was a damn good thing, because he hadn’t a clue what to say.
Oh, my God . He’d just been lectured about safe sex by his fifteen-year-old daughter.
*
Music. Maya heard music. And not soothing music, either. Had she set her alarm? She cracked open an eye and looked at the clock. Five a.m. The music came from her phone. She grabbed at it, trying to make the obnoxious noise cease. Who the hell was calling her at five a.m.? “Hello.” She held the phone away from her ear. The readout said it was her assistant. “Cindy? What’s wrong?”
“Maya, thank God you answered,” Cindy said. “I thought you might have turned off your ringer.”
Maya sat up, swung her feet to the floor and rubbed her eyes. “What happened? Are you all right? Did we lose a big client?” Cindy wouldn’t have called this early unless it was something serious.
“No, everything’s fine. Well, not exactly fi—” Her voice cut off and Maya heard muffled sounds. What in the hell was going on?
Cindy came back on the line. “Sorry, I had to—”
She must have dropped the phone again, but this time Maya heard the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. Sincerely glad she had a cast iron stomach, Maya waited.
A short time later, Cindy spoke again. “I hate to do this, but can you go to Los Angeles?”
“Los Angeles? Today?” Oh, damn. She remembered now. Cindy had a meeting with one of their biggest clients, a photography studio in LA that supplied Maya’s Models with a number of the photographers they used for freelance projects.
“I’ve been sick all night,” Cindy moaned. “I kept hoping I’d get better but—” she gulped—“I haven’t.”
“No, that’s obvious. Shoot me the details and I’ll catch the first flight out. Please tell me it’s this afternoon and not this morning.”
Cindy assured her the appointment wasn’t until late that afternoon, which meant if she was lucky she could make it to LA in time. Minutes later, they hung up and Maya received a text with the details of the meeting on it.
By the time she’d called Amy to ask her to take care of Carmen, booked a flight out of Bozeman, woken Carmen and told her what was going on, choked down some coffee, showered, dressed and packed a carry on, it was late enough to call Jack. Amy was taking Carmen to school and would pick her up as well. If Maya drove like a crazy woman, she’d make it to the Bozeman airport in time to catch her flight.
Naturally, Jack didn’t answer. She remembered he’d said he had early rounds, so she left a message and told him she’d call him later with details. That is, she tried to leave a message, but since cell phone reception was spotty on the way to the airport, she wasn’t sure he’d get it.
Great start to the day.
Chapter Eight
‡
“W hat happened to Dylan?” Jack asked his brother Wyatt. He and Wyatt had met at Grey’s after work to have a beer and play some pool. Gina had stayed home to “do her homework,” which he knew meant anything but. She’d probably gotten on the phone the minute he walked out the door.
“Dylan stayed home with Lulabelle,” his brother said, referring to one of
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart,” he answered. “She’d want us to be happy, Gina. Your mother wouldn’t want us to grieve forever.”
“Does Ms. Parrish make you happy?”
Thinking about Maya, he smiled. “Yes, she does. Very happy.”
“Okay.” Gina got up and walked to the door. “Dad?” He looked at her, thinking how grown up she was getting. “I hope you’re being responsible . That’s important, you know.” She left before he could answer. Which was a damn good thing, because he hadn’t a clue what to say.
Oh, my God . He’d just been lectured about safe sex by his fifteen-year-old daughter.
*
Music. Maya heard music. And not soothing music, either. Had she set her alarm? She cracked open an eye and looked at the clock. Five a.m. The music came from her phone. She grabbed at it, trying to make the obnoxious noise cease. Who the hell was calling her at five a.m.? “Hello.” She held the phone away from her ear. The readout said it was her assistant. “Cindy? What’s wrong?”
“Maya, thank God you answered,” Cindy said. “I thought you might have turned off your ringer.”
Maya sat up, swung her feet to the floor and rubbed her eyes. “What happened? Are you all right? Did we lose a big client?” Cindy wouldn’t have called this early unless it was something serious.
“No, everything’s fine. Well, not exactly fi—” Her voice cut off and Maya heard muffled sounds. What in the hell was going on?
Cindy came back on the line. “Sorry, I had to—”
She must have dropped the phone again, but this time Maya heard the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. Sincerely glad she had a cast iron stomach, Maya waited.
A short time later, Cindy spoke again. “I hate to do this, but can you go to Los Angeles?”
“Los Angeles? Today?” Oh, damn. She remembered now. Cindy had a meeting with one of their biggest clients, a photography studio in LA that supplied Maya’s Models with a number of the photographers they used for freelance projects.
“I’ve been sick all night,” Cindy moaned. “I kept hoping I’d get better but—” she gulped—“I haven’t.”
“No, that’s obvious. Shoot me the details and I’ll catch the first flight out. Please tell me it’s this afternoon and not this morning.”
Cindy assured her the appointment wasn’t until late that afternoon, which meant if she was lucky she could make it to LA in time. Minutes later, they hung up and Maya received a text with the details of the meeting on it.
By the time she’d called Amy to ask her to take care of Carmen, booked a flight out of Bozeman, woken Carmen and told her what was going on, choked down some coffee, showered, dressed and packed a carry on, it was late enough to call Jack. Amy was taking Carmen to school and would pick her up as well. If Maya drove like a crazy woman, she’d make it to the Bozeman airport in time to catch her flight.
Naturally, Jack didn’t answer. She remembered he’d said he had early rounds, so she left a message and told him she’d call him later with details. That is, she tried to leave a message, but since cell phone reception was spotty on the way to the airport, she wasn’t sure he’d get it.
Great start to the day.
Chapter Eight
‡
“W hat happened to Dylan?” Jack asked his brother Wyatt. He and Wyatt had met at Grey’s after work to have a beer and play some pool. Gina had stayed home to “do her homework,” which he knew meant anything but. She’d probably gotten on the phone the minute he walked out the door.
“Dylan stayed home with Lulabelle,” his brother said, referring to one of
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